


A Starfish Tattoo

by cosimasdreads03



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 09:36:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosimasdreads03/pseuds/cosimasdreads03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kira goes to visit Auntie Cosima when she's sick, and she decides to give Kira her first tattoo.  (Post Season 2, pre-Season 3)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Starfish Tattoo

There has been no word from Cosima for several days now. With Delphine’s mysterious absence and Cosima’s health declining, Sarah decided to give her space. But when Tuesday rolls around, she can’t help but pick up the phone.

She can hear Cosima cough when she answers. “Hello?”

“It’s Sarah. How are you doing, Cos?”

Cosima clears her throat. “I’m – I’m doing okay.”

“Fee told me you fainted yesterday. Are you still on the oxygen?”

“Shit – I told him not to tell you about that. Um, I tried to go without it yesterday, which was … well, obviously not a great idea. But don’t worry about me, seriously.” Cosima pauses. “How’s Kira? Is she still … is she still asking …”

“She wants to see you, Cos,” Sarah sighed. “She won’t stop talking about it.”

Cosima sighs too, and then gives a rattling cough. “Um, I don’t know, Sarah.”

“Yeah. I dunno, either.”

“I mean, I obviously want to see her too, but I just don’t know whether …”

“Yeah, whether …”

They pause and sit in silence, not wanting to say it out loud. That Kira is too young to see a dying person. That seeing her aunt so ill might upset Kira more than help her.

Sarah has decided against it, decided that it would be too painful, too upsetting, when Cosima speaks again.

“Actually, Sarah… don’t freak out, but maybe now would be a better time than … later. You know, maybe she should see me now while I’m still, um … functioning normally.”

“Don’t you even speak like that, Cos,” Sarah says fiercely.

Cosima’s voice is soothing, calm. “Sarah, Sarah, it’s okay – it’s okay. I’m still optimistic. I’m still fighting. But I just want us to be prepared for … well, all the possibilities.”

 _All the possibilities._ The words feel like a punch to the gut. “I’ll bring her over tomorrow,” Sarah says shortly. “And the story’s gonna be that you’re recoverin’. Don’t tell her anything else.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

“We’re going to stay for half an hour – not any longer, yeah?” Sarah tells Kira as they walk towards Felix’s apartment the next day.

Kira pouts. “But last time I saw Auntie Cosima, I got to stay all day. We read books, and played dinosaurs, and ate ice cream for dinner.”

“Good god,” Sarah mutters to herself, sighing. “Well, baby, this time we only get a short visit. Remember how Auntie Cosima’s been sick lately? That means you should be very quiet with her and not make her tired. Don’t ask her to get out of bed or, like, play dinosaur games with you or anythin’.” _Because if you ask, I know she will._

“Okay, mommy,” Kira says. Her face looks very solemn for a moment, and then she suddenly stops walking to pull on her mother’s coat. “Is Auntie Cosima very, very sick?”

Sarah feels her heart clench. The lie slips from her lips, like bitter oil on her tongue. “Don’t worry, monkey. I promise you, she is getting better all the time.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Cosima is sitting up in Felix’s bed when they came in, wearing a large sweater and surrounded by piles of books and papers. She looks pale and thin, but she smiles brightly as she waves to Sarah and cuddles Kira, who has rushed into her arms.

“Hi, monkey! I sure missed you,” she says, grinning. They chat for a few minutes before Kira pulls away and touches her aunt’s face lightly, inquisitively.

“Why do you have funny tubes coming from your nose, Auntie Cosima? What is that big tank over there?”

“That? Oh, that’s an oxygen tank. Have you heard about oxygen?” Kira shakes her head. “Well, oxygen is in the air we breathe. It’s an element, and we need it to survive.”

“So do I need an oxygen tank too?” Kira asks.

Cosima laughs. “Nope. It’s only for sick people. I’m a bit sick right now, so I borrowed it for a little while until I feel better.”

But then her smile vanishes abruptly, and she turns away to cough. One cough turns into two, and then ten, and then suddenly she is clutching at the bedsheets, making desperate, rattling inhalations as she struggles to breathe.

Sarah makes a panicked move to help her, but Cosima waves her off. After a few long moments, she wipes her mouth on a tissue and steadies herself. She glances at Kira, who has shrunken away from her in fear. “Don’t – don’t look like that, baby,” Cosima says hoarsely, looking embarrassed. “I’m totally fine. No biggie.”

But seeing the look on both of their faces, she clears her throat and quickly changes the subject. “Um … guess what, Kira? I have a surprise for you.” She rolls up the sleeve of her sweater. “Do you remember me showing you this?”

“Yeah. Your tattoo.” Kira’s expression relaxes a little, and she inches closer to her aunt, running her fingers over the blue swirling image. “It’s pretty.”

Cosima smiles, and rummages around in a bag on the nightstand before pulling out a small tube of henna dye. “Ta da! Now you get to have one too – a temporary one, anyway.”

Kira is over the moon with excitement, all anxieties forgotten. After a few semi-serious warnings from Sarah (“No tramp stamps for my 1st grader, okay Cos?”), they set to work straight away.

Kira wants a starfish, so Cosima begins to draw one on her arm with careful, painstaking detail. When it is finished, she blows lightly on the lines of dark paste, and they bend their heads close together and talk as they watch it dry.

“I’ve only ever seen a starfish in books,” Kira says. “Have you ever seen a real starfish, Auntie Cosima?”

“Yeah, I have. When I was your age and living in San Fran, my favorite thing to do was to go to the ocean with my mom. We’d walk on the beach together and see if we could spot any new animals or fish. I’d pick up lots of starfish, just to hold them in my hand.”

“What does it feel like?”

“Hmm … Kinda hard and bumpy. And really wet.”

“I’ve never been to an ocean,” Kira says. “We live too far away. How far is your ocean? Can we drive there?”

Cosima chuckles. “Nope. It’s really far. We’d have to fly.”

“Can we fly there sometime, then? Will you take me? I want to walk with you on the beach. I want to see a starfish.”

Cosima looks into the bright, eager face of her niece, and doesn’t answer. She closes her eyes briefly, as if in pain. Then she takes a wet rag and begins to clean off the dried henna from Kira’s arm, and they watch as a brilliantly intricate starfish emerges, spiraling and rich and vibrant. Cosima traces its lines gently with her finger.

“You’ll see a real one someday, Kira,” she says softly. “I promise.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Kira is unusually quiet as they walk down the street.

Finally Sarah has to break the silence. “Well, I bet Auntie Cosima was sure glad to see you,” she says, her voice falsely bright. “Didn’t you have fun?” There is no response. “Kira?”

She hears sniffling. Panicked, she kneels down and draws her child towards her. “What happened, baby? Are you hurt?”

Tears stream down Kira’s cheeks. “You promised that Auntie Cosima was getting _better._ ”

Sarah’s gut clenches. “Oh, she is, baby. She is. We have many smart doctors looking after her. They are going to make her well.” _They_ must _make her well,_ Sarah thinks fiercely. Because she can’t imagine – can’t even begin to conceive – the alternative.

Kira is silent for a long moment, and when she finally speaks, it is in a very small voice. “Was she – was she happy to see me?”

Sarah starts in surprise. “What? Of _course_ she was, monkey.”

“But did I – did I make her sad? She smiled real big at me, but she still looked sad.” Kira hiccups, crying freely now. “Did I do something wrong? Did I say something bad? Is that why you never take me to go play with her anymore?”

Sarah guides Kira to a park bench, and then kneels down in front of her. “Baby, that has _nothing_ to do with you,” she insists. “Your Auntie Cosima loves you, and nothing could ever change that.” She pauses, struggling for words. “But … but sometimes when you really love someone, it makes you sad, because when you think about their heart hurting, it makes your heart hurt too.” Her voice grows thick, and she blinks back tears. “That’s how Auntie Cosima feels about you, baby. She's afraid that when you see her sick like that, lying in bed with all those tubes and stuff, that it will make your heart hurt, or make you feel sad or scared. And she doesn’t want that to happen. That’s why she got sad when you came over. That’s why she hasn’t been asking to see you. She just wants to protect you – just like I do. Do you understand that?”

“Yeah.” Kira sniffles. “But Mommy … I did feel really sad and scared when I saw Auntie Cosima, but … but I still want to see her again anyway.” Her voice gets even smaller. “Please. I promise I’d be really, really quiet. We don’t have to play games anymore. Maybe … maybe when her cough really hurts her, I could go sit with her and hold her hand, just like you do when I’m sick.”

Sarah feels the breath knocked out of her. For the first time since her sister’s diagnosis, her courage fails. She thinks about what Cosima might look like in a couple weeks of the experimental treatments, when already she has deteriorated so rapidly. And she thinks, with a shudder, about what the next few months might hold if the treatments – God forbid – don’t work …

But then she looks at Kira, and with a jolt of recognition, she sees something of herself – something of the scrappy young orphan she used to be – in the firm, steady gaze of her daughter.

“Okay, baby,” Sarah whispers. “I won’t keep you from her any longer. I promise.”


End file.
